There was another, even more formidable—Mary Queen of Scots. She was a greater rival, and she was far away, so that Elizabeth could not keep a watchful eye upon her. She would have been happy to have Mary in England, nominally as an honored guest but in reality a prisoner. That was why, when Mary had left France recently on the death of her husband, François Deux, Elizabeth had refused her a safe passage. What a prize a captured Mary would have been!
Mary had said—so Elizabeth had been told—when the death of Amy had been reported to her: “Ah, now the Queen of England will be able to marry her horse-master!”
“Insolence!” muttered Elizabeth. “Could she but see my ‘horse-master,’ I doubt not she would throw at him some of the languishing glances which we hear are so fascinating.”
That was another quality of Mary’s which exasperated her. Mary was reputed to be very beautiful, and it was mortifying to be reminded that she was nine years younger than Elizabeth herself. At least there was nothing of the meekness of the Grey sisters in Mary’s character.
There were many Catholics who looked on Mary as the real Queen of England.
Such thoughts of her rivals often made Elizabeth fretful; she would lose control of her temper, and many of those about her would be chastised, and not only with words. But her rages were short-lived and would give place to pleasant smiles; and when she felt that she had been unjust she would always seek to make up to her victim in some way.
One day when she was riding to the hunt she noticed that Lady Catharine Grey was not in the company. On inquiring the reason she was told that the lady was sick and had stayed in her apartments. She tried to forget the trifling incident and, if it had been any other, she would not have given it a further thought.
During the hunt she lost her temper, and as Robert was riding beside her he felt the full force of her annoyance.
She said to him quite suddenly: “I have decided that I cannot put off my marriage. I shall invite the King of Sweden to come to England without delay, that the preparations may go ahead.”
Robert was astounded. “The King of Sweden!” he cried. “That man! He is nothing more than an imbecile.”
“How dare you speak thus of your betters?”
“Not being an imbecile, Your Majesty, I do not consider that man to be even my equal.”
“Master Dudley, you give yourself airs.”
His temper was as hot as hers. Their natures were similar; therein lay the great understanding between them. Each was quick to anger and quick to forget it; both were proud of their positions yet perpetually aware of humble ancestors.
He answered: “Madam, I speak the truth—which is what I believe you have said you wished from me.”
“I would thank you to look to your own affairs.”
“Your Majesty’s marriage is my affair.”
“I do not think so.”
“Madam …”
“I command you to keep your nose out of my affairs.”
“And I insist that your marriage is my affair—mine as much as yours.”
“So you think I will marry you, do you?”
“You have led me to believe that it is not an impossibility.”
“Then you are a fool to hold such hopes. You … a Dudley … to marry with a Queen! Do you think I could so far forget my royal rank as to marry such as you!”
“Does Your Majesty mean that?”
“We do mean it.”
“Then have I Your Majesty’s permission to leave Court? I wish to go abroad.”
“Go! Go by all means. Nothing could please us more. It is with the greatest pleasure that we give you leave to go.”
He was silent. She watched him covertly. There, Master Robert, she thought, what now? That will show you who is in command.
He performed his duty with great care and detached perfection during the hunt. She was almost restored to good humor by the time they returned to the palace; but she waited in vain for him to ask her pardon.
For a whole day he absented himself from Court, since there was no particular duty to keep him there. The Queen’s ministers were alert. They had heard of the quarrel. Was this the beginning of a coolness between them?
The following day Cecil said to her: “Since Your Majesty has decided on a match with the King of Sweden, it would be as well to invite him here without delay.”
She was furious suddenly: “I decide on a match with the King of Sweden! I have heard he is nothing more than an imbecile!”
“Your Majesty, he is a King and would make a worthy husband.”
“I am the best judge of who shall be my husband.”
“Then Your Majesty has no intention of proceeding with this match?”
“I have no such intention.”
Cecil retired exasperated. So her statement, during the hunt, which had been reported to him by those who worked for him, had been made with no other purpose than to anger Robert.
She waited for Robert to hear of her remarks. He would, she felt, return humbly and she would meet him halfway; there would be one of those reconciliations which delighted her. She needed such consolation after a whole day without him, for other men seemed stupid and witless when compared with him.
But he did not come; and at length, when she commanded his presence, diffidently he came.
“Why is it that you have absented yourself from Court?” she demanded.
“Because I have been making preparations to leave the country, and I thought by so doing I was obeying Your Majesty’s orders.”
She became woeful and helpless. Her eyes pleaded: So you would desert me! You would leave me to the mercy of my stern ministers. Is that all your love is worth! Do all your protestations mean nothing?
“My lord,” she said despondently, “is it your wish to leave the country? If that is what you desire, so great is our wish for your contentment that we will grant you the permission to go, even though it is against our wishes to do so.”
He was smiling as he kissed her hand with ardor. “How could I ever find contentment but in the service of Your Majesty?”
“Then all is well,” she said gaily.
“And the King of Sweden?”
She “pupped” with her lips, which was a habit of hers; then she began to laugh, and he laughed with her.
“Come,” she said, “sit beside me and give me the benefit of your conversation. I declare the Court has been a dull place these last hours.”
And when the French and Spanish ambassadors were with her, and one expressed his surprise that Robert Dudley was still at Court, as he had heard his lordship had Her Majesty’s permission to go abroad, she laughed lightly.
“I cannot live if I do not see him every day,” she said.
Then, because she fancied Robert’s smile was too complacent, she added quickly: “He is as my lap-dog.”
That brought an angry look to his face and she put out a hand to him with a very tender smile. “Nay,” she went on, “’tis true that I will not be without him, and where this Dudley is, there you may be sure to find Elizabeth.”
Then the whole Court knew that she was as much in love with him as she had ever been; and they did not believe—nor did Robert—that their marriage would be long delayed.
Time passed pleasantly at Windsor. Elizabeth walked often on the terrace which had been built for her before the castle on the north side. She was fond of walking and was often seen at the head of a little procession of ladies and gentlemen, with Lord Robert beside her, holding an umbrella over her if it rained.
Often she hunted in the park or the forest, for she was as fond of the hunt as her father had been. Bull-baiting and cock-fighting delighted her. She had a stage put in the castle that she might indulge her taste for the drama, and many strolling players had come to Court in the hope of pleasing her and making their fortunes. There were places too for musicians; and in the Windsor Castle orchestra were players of many instruments including lutes and bagpipes, flutes and rebecks.